


Shall we take her for a spin?

by VarjoRuusu



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: DB5, Final Scene Fixit, It's also cute and fluffy, Kidnap is mentioned here, M/M, Mentions of deleted scenes, Oneshot, Q didn't in the movie, Q was supposed to get kidnapped, Spectre Alternate Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 06:42:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5406899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VarjoRuusu/pseuds/VarjoRuusu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh,” Q said as they pulled apart a few minutes later, both breathing heavily. “I have something for you. I finished rebuilding her.”</p><p>James' eyes lit up so fast that Q laughed, taking the other mans hand and leading him into the workshop and to the back where a false wall slid away with the press of a button to reveal a perfectly rebuilt silver DB5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shall we take her for a spin?

**Author's Note:**

> A friend of mine asked for a DB5 fixit and this is what appeared. It came out a little less about the car then I had intended, but it encompasses more of how it's actually a fixit from the movie. This works heavily with a deleted piece of script that has been floating around the internet where Q is kidnapped and nearly killed, which I have to say I would have liked to see, but I suppose they thought it was a bit much in an already packed movie. I think it would have been a good plot twist though. Anyway, enjoy the fluffy! Non-Beta'd.

“James!” Madeline shouted.

James twitched, eyes fixed on Oberhauser, lying on the pavement in front of him. His finger itched to pull the trigger, itched to finish it once and for all. He knew M was there, a few yards in front of him, wounded, but he didn't care. Mallory wouldn't interfere if James chose to end Oberhauser's life. No one would stop him now. 

James looked up suddenly, that itching like he was being watched becoming overpowering. This was not the numerous police, M, and Madeline, this was something else. A flash of light on glass, a pale hand pushing back a mop of hair. James' breath caught. 

Q.

Q was there on the bridge, watching him. He had been just at the other end of a commlink on many missions since the whole mess with Silva and Skyfall, but James knew for a fact that Q had never seen him kill up close, even when Q had been kidnapped only a few days before. And that was something he didn't want to change. He didn't want Q to see him kill. He looked back at Oberhauser then he lowered the gun slowly. 

“Enough,” he said quietly, as he chucked the gun away, over the bridge railing and into the Thames. “Enough killing.”

He glanced up at Q before he turned and walked away, catching Madeline as she nearly fell into his arms. “Lets get you home,” he whispered into her hair and she nodded, clutching his arm as the last few days caught up to her and she burst into tears. 

It wasn't hard getting her on a plane back to France, where she went to the home that had belonged to her mother and father when she was a little girl. It wasn't even hard leaving her there, her face strong in the face of everything had happened, but with a shadow in her eyes that may never leave again. What was hard, James found, was two days later when he stood outside Q's sub-basement workroom at MI6. 

It was late, almost 2AM, and no one else was in the workroom except Q. James knew this because he had been watching the building for hours and had seen Q enter around 5PM and a few others come and go until no one remained but Q himself. Now James just had to work up the courage to go in and talk to him. 

You wouldn't think it would be a problem, the infamous 007 speaking with his Quartermaster, but after the events of the last week, James had found his entire life in chaos in more ways then he could count. A man he had thought dead for the better part of twenty years had returned and tried to systematically destroy him for an imagined slight from their childhood. A jumped up power grabber had tried to disband the 00 program and MI6 all together. Q had been kidnapped and would have been beaten to death if James hadn't gotten there in time. As it was the younger man had escaped relatively unscathed, if perhaps a bit mentally scarred, having been forced to kill one of his captors during the escape. It had all made Bond wary.

James had just raised his hand to push the door open when it swung inwards on its own, revealing a haggered looking Q, his cardigan buttoned askew and his glasses crooked. James blinked as Q came to a surprised halt and started at him.

“007. You're back. I didn't expect you,” he muttered, his fingers twitching nervously. He looked like he had been crying, his eyes red behind his glasses.

“Are you alright?” James asked, taking an instinctive step forward.

“Am I?” Q began bewildered. “I'm perfectly fine, Bond, why would you ask such a-”

“Q.” Jame interrupted. Q blinked and then sagged against the door. 

“Am I alright, of course I'm not bloody alright, I was kidnapped, Bond, I killed a man, then you showed up and had killed everyone else to get to me. Then you vanished, again, I might add, and next thing I know you're trapped in the old MI6 building that has been rigged to explode! Do you think I'd be bloody alright after a week like that?”

Fresh tears were falling down his face by now and he hastily tried to wipe them away with the sleeve of his cardigan. James stared at him for a full ten seconds in silence before he stepped forward and dragged the other man into a bone crushing hug, one hand burying in his hair as Q's arms wrapped instinctively around his back and held him tight.

“I'm sorry,” James whispered against his ear.

“For what?” Q hiccuped, not trying to pull away, simply burying his nose in James' shoulder and resting there in the strong embrace. 

“For everything, Q. I'm sorry I didn't notice sooner.”

Q stiffened and did pull away this time, getting far enough away to be able to look James in the eye. “Notice what?” he asked, suspicion warring with terror. 

“That you're in love with me,” James said softly, no smirk, no cheeky comment, just a sincere smile. 

Q was silent for a long time before asking, “What gave me away?”

James chuckled, pulling Q a bit closer again, having not relinquished his hold on the younger man. “Little things really. A comment here, a smirk there. The look in your eyes when I was about to shoot Oberhauser,” he finished, his voice dropping from teasing to serious. “I think that was when I realized that it wasn't because of what he had done to me, or to Madeline, that made me want to kill him. It was what he tried to do to you.”

Q raised his eyebrows and relaxed, settling comfortably into James' arms and letting their bodies rest pressed against each other, one side leaning against the still open door. 

“Does that mean what I think it means?” he asked cautiously. 

“That maybe I've been a little bit in love with you since that day in the Tate when you compared me to a warship in a Turner painting?” James smirked and Q flushed, ducking his head. 

“You can't be serious,” he mumbled. James chuckled.

“When I consider the last two years, I really think I am,” he said firmly, reaching his hand back up to Q's face to tilt his chin up and meet his eyes. “Do you have any issue with that, at all, Q?” he asked seriously. 

Q shook his head, a small smile making it's way onto his face. “No, Bond, I don't believe I do,” he said softly, lips a hairs breath away from the ones that had been haunting his dreams for two years.

“James,” the other man said as their mouths finally brushed. “My name is James.”

“James,” Q mumbled and the kiss deepened, the hand on his chin moving back into his hair to anchor his head at just the right angle so James could plunder his mouth and make Q groan and wish they were anywhere but MI6. 

“Oh,” Q said as they pulled apart a few minutes later, both breathing heavily. “I have something for you. I finished rebuilding her.”

James' eyes lit up so fast that Q laughed, taking the other mans hand and leading him into the workshop and to the back where a false wall slid away with the press of a button to reveal a perfectly rebuilt silver DB5.

“There wasn't much left to work with, after Silva, so it's practically a whole new car, but I'm told by the engineers that she'll run beautifully,” Q said, trying to ignore the tingles that were running up and down his spine when James wrapped an arm around him.

“Shall we take her for a spin then?” James whispered in his ear, tugging him closer and biting his neck gently. Q moaned, then smirked. 

“Certainly, 007, but only if I am allowed to drive at least once tonight.”

James' eyebrows shot up. “I honestly can't tell if you're talking about the car right now,” he said, nearly laughing.

“You'll just have to find out later, won't you?” Q smirked. 

“I can't wait.”

**Author's Note:**

> Upon trolling around London recently I found out that the Turner painting is not actually in the Tate, it's in the National Gallery. I don't care enough to change it frankly.


End file.
